


The Seven Fragments

by SecretlyMe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Empath, Friendship, M/M, Seer Harry Potter, bloopers!, harry feels things, no bashes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26367802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyMe/pseuds/SecretlyMe
Summary: Voldemort was something no one knew, and now his fragmented soul carries his power. Harry grew up with one of these pieces, and it makes telling who the wrong sort are very easy. It's the power Dumbledore never knew Tom had, and now it's back in Hogwarts. Far in the future HP/DM. Far. Into the future. Ratings subject to change.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	1. Hoggy Express

There was a bustling of activity across the platform of Nine and Three Quarters; from the children waving at their parents through the windows of the red train, to the wide variety of noises from the animals. It was a peculiar site for the boy who had seen none of it before. It was so normal, and yet so different. If he himself hadn't passed the barrier in the wall just now, he would have thought this was another day for the train station. Beyond the weird clothes and animals of course.

The raven haired boy dragged his way through the sea of bodies as he tried to find a way on to the red train before it blew its horn and left. His owl, Hedwig, fluttered her bright pristine wings in her cage, which wobbled a little on his suitcase, and swiveled her head around slightly to get her own look at the station. The trunk was too large for him to carry, but he wasn't going to ask for help. He'd already gotten a lot of it from the red-headed wizarding family just moments prior.

He made his way down the train slowly as he checked compartment after compartment for an empty one, and it was only near the end of the train Harry came across exactly what he was looking for. He lifted Hedwig through the window before going to a train door to get his suitcase in. It was heavy, and he couldn't get it past the first two steps before he was stuck.

"Want a hand?"

Harry looked ahead of his suitcase and saw one of the red headed twins from before. He was all pale and freckled, and his brown eyes just twinkled with underlying mischief.

"Yes, please." Harry panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

The second part of the identical duo appeared, and he was the spitting image of the first twin, right down to the last strand of hair. Together they helped Harry with his luggage and carried it for him to his chosen compartment. Once it was nestled away in a place it couldn't hurt anyone, Harry turned to the twins and grinned.

"Thanks." Harry said. He brushed his hair from his forehead that stuck due to the sweat.

"What's that?" Said one of the twins suddenly, and he pointed at Harry's lightning scar. Harry brushed it with his fingers and watched their reactions.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you?"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he asked.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter. " They both piped.

"Oh," Harry said, stopping himself from rolling his eyes, though only just. "Yes, I am."

The twins stared at him weirdly, and Harry felt himself turning red the longer the looked at him. To his relief, their mother's voice rang through the busy air.

"Fred? George? Are you there?" She asked.

"Coming, Mum." They chorused loudly, and then turned and left like they were on fire. Harry took a breath, closed the door of the compartment, and wiggled his way into the corner, next to the window. Hedwig hooted from beside him, and he subconsciously stuck his finger through the cage. She nipped lightly at the given appendage, and he responded by brushing his finger over the top of her head.

"Ron, you've got a smudge on your nose." He heard from outside the window.

"Mum, get off." The one Harry assumed was Ron whined.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nose?" Asked a familiar voice of one of the twins.

"Shut up." Ron said.

"Where's Percy?" The mother asked.

"He's coming now." One of the twins said. There were several moments of silence Harry took to mean they waited for Percy.

"Can't stay long, Mother," He said. "I'm up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves."

"Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?" Asked one of the twins, genuinely surprised. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," The other one said.

"Once."

"Or twice."

"A minute."

"All summer."

"Oh, shut up." Percy said. Harry laughed, and peeked out the window to see what they were doing.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" One of the twins asked.

"Because he's a Prefect," His mother said. "All right, dear, well, have a good term, send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two, this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've- you've blown up a toilet or-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet." One of them said.

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum." The other said.

"It's not funny. And look after Ron." She said.

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us." Said both twins.

"Shut up." Ron said again. Ron was almost as tall as the twins, and had the same pale and freckled skin as they had. He was gangly where they weren't though. His nose was pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" One of the twins said.

Harry could guess who they meant and leaned back so they couldn't see him looking. He stared at the wall across from him, and felt his heart pound for no reason other than being noticed.

"You know that black-haired boy from the barrier?" Said one of the twins.

"Yes?" Said the mother.

"He was Harry Potter!" They both exclaimed.

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, please." A girl's voice begged. Harry slipped a little farther down.

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?" The mother asked, and suddenly Harry was happy she was their mother.

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there, like lightning." One of the twins, likely Fred, said.

"Poor dear, no wonder he was alone. He was so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform." The mother reflected.

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" Said the twins.

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school." She said. Harry paused for a moment, and he wondered if he did remember the night. If he did, he had no idea.

"All right, keep your hair on." The twin said.

A whistle sounded. Harry looked up at the ceiling like that was where the sound came from. He felt a flood of relief fill him, and a sense of reality appeared. This was actually happening. He was actually on a train, to a school he knew nothing about besides it was a magic school. This was happening.

The train lurched forwards, and Harry looked out the window as the station moved past him. Soon after, there were houses outside.

The door of the compartment slid open and Ron walked through. He heaved his luggage in behind him.

"Anyone else sitting here?" He asked, and pointed at the empty seat across from Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head, but he could feel a tug in his head; something about what the boy said felt weird. The boy closed the door behind him and plopped himself down on the seat. He glanced at Harry for a moment before he looked out the window.

"Hey, Ron." One of the twins said as he opened the doors. Both of the boys looked over at him.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there." Said one of the twins.

"Right." Mumbled Ron.

"Harry," Said the other, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later."

"Bye." Harry said and Ron with varied degrees of enthusiasm. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them, and disappeared farther down the train. Harry saw Ron's fingers tap at his knee, and he relented himself for the soon to be questions.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out eventually.

"Yes." Harry said, and nodded along like that would back his statement up.

"Oh, well I thought you were another one of Fred and George's jokes," he paused. "So do you really have the, you know..." He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who..." Ron trailed off.

"Yes," Harry said, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Ron said eagerly.

"Well, I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." Harry admitted.

"Wow." Ron said, and sat back with an awed expression. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry asked. He found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er, yes, I think so," Ron said. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already." Harry remarked.

"Not that much. I heard you went to live with Muggles," Ron said. "What are they like?"

"Horrible... well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." Harry said.

"Five," Ron corrected glumly. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left; Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. He continued. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so; all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort-" Harry continued. He stopped when Ron gasped.

"What?" Harry said.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron said, both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people-"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," He paused before he said something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." Ron assured Harry. While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.

They were quiet for a time as they watched the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet at the opportunity, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry had never had money to buy anything, but now that he had coins loaded in his pockets, Harry was going to buy as many Mars Bars as he could. The woman didn't have any Mars Bars though. She had Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands. Many strange things Harry had never heard anything in his life, but he wanted to try all of them. He paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts, and entered the compartment carrying all his food in his shirt. Ron stared as Harry brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?" Ron asked.

"Starving." Harry said. He took a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," Harry said, and held up a pasty. Ron hesitated at the offer, so Harry encouraged, "Go on."

"You don't want this, it's all dry," Ron said. "She hasn't got much time, you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty." Harry said again. He never never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with.

As he passed one of the pasties to Ron, he got his first brush with Ron's hand. A sense of distrust rose in the back of Harry's mind, which he latched onto. It warped around itself into betrayal and estrangement, and pressed down on his brain heavily enough that it felt like it would physically push him to the ground, even though he knew it was all in his mind. A few soft wisps of childhood happiness laced the emotions, but it was so vague he almost didn't notice it.

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron. He forewent the brought upon emotions in favor of still talking to him for now, and held up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

"No," Ron said. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Harry asked, because he was sure he heard that wrong.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know, Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect, famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog, which jumped out free in the compartment, and he picked up the card. It showed a man's face; he wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and a flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry said.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron echoed. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa, thanks."

Harry handed over the rest of the frogs, and turned over his card and read:

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!" Harry shouted.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron said. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again, and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

"Sure. You can help yourself to the rest," Harry said. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "Weird!"

Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach, liver, and tripe. George said he had a booger flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green jelly bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. "Blaaargh - see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside that was flying past the window became wilder. The neat fields had gone; now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform Nine and Three Quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," the boy said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When the two shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

Ron didn't seem ready to get up from the seat until he needed to, but Harry held sympathy towards the boy who was in obvious distress, even if he himself had never had a pet to lose before Hedwig. Harry stood up from his spot.

"I'll help you look for him if you like." Harry offered. The boy sniffed a little and nodded his head woefully.

"Thanks." He said.

Harry smiled and held out his hand, "I'm Harry."

The boy looked at said hand before he took it, "Neville."

The instant their hands came in contact, a worm of joy settled into the back of Harry's head, which he poked at before it could fade away, and recieved what could be considered opposite to the feelings he got from Ron. A wash of acceptance and excitement flooded in to pool around Harry's brain, which made his mind feel as if it was submerged in a sea of warm sap, but not uncomfortably so. A blanket of sympathy and comfort would often find a way into their relationship; friendly love turned into it's brotherly counterpart; the thrill of adventure swamped around - Harry could've sworn he felt an echo of cheerful laughter in there.

The grin Harry gave Neville was probably the brightest look the boy had ever had directed at him, and while Neville followed Harry with confusion, Harry was happy to help the boy. He left Ron without a word, who continued to work through the cards. The only interruptions Ron experienced after that was a pale haired boy knocking on the door.

"Neville!" A feminine, albeit breathless sounding voice came from down the hall from Harry and Neville. Harry got a look at a girl with brown eyes and equally brown hair bushy like a squirrel, teeth a bit large for her mouth, and an air of know-it-allness surrounding her concerned expression.

"Oh, hello Hermione." Neville murmured. Hermione stopped in front of them, and looked between the two.

"Have you managed to find Trevor yet?" She asked Neville.

"N-no," He said quietly, then with a bit more air in him, "But I did find someone else who was willing to help."

Hermione turned to Harry, who grinned at her. The feelings he got from Neville hadn't completely faded yet, and he was ready to take whatever happened in stride.

"I'm Harry." He said, and he thrusted his hand forward to be shaken. Hermione looked at the hand and then back at his face with trepidation.

"I'm Hermione." She said, a bit calmer than he. She reached forward and grabbed his hand, and shook it once dutifully.

The first few seconds of the emotions to come over him were off set, like he realized she was there but his back saw her more than his front. That shifted immediately into a wide range of peace and joy and something he could only say was trust. The same syrupy mix of acceptance and excitement he had felt moments ago with Neville came back with Hermione, and he let go of her hand with a brighter smile than when he'd started. For her part, his grin was obviously not what she had expected, if her glance at Neville said anything.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Hermione." Harry said.

"Yeah..." She said quietly, and then pointed over her shoulder. "We should get back to looking for Trevor. Everyone that way said they hadn't seen a toad."

"So we need to turn around?" Neville asked. Hermione nodded her head enthusiastically, which caused her wild hair to bob around her. The three worked their way through the train the rest of the ride, and despite their best efforts, were never able to find the toad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first chapter to a story my sis and I have been working on for a few years. Hope you enjoyed it. R&R if you please, and kudos give us life.
> 
> PS, this is on FFN. No one stole anything, we're just expanding what platforms this story reaches.


	2. Grandiose Hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue of the professors are very book heavy, as we are still setting up the story. And of course, we own nothing.
> 
> Consider this a "new story" boon of two chapters back to back, because that's unlikely to happen again. We do, somehow, have lives. We prefer quality over quantity, so the time between new chapters will vary, and we can't say by how much.  
> At the end of the chapter is a bit of a "blooper" for the story. This story will have darker moments and themes, and we want to provide you all with fun scenes meant purely for laughs. This could be done after any chapter we have bloopers for, or after every five chapters, etc. Let us know how you guys feel about this.

The train slowed down and finally stopped at the nearest train station to Hogwarts. As soon as the doors were opened people pushed their way out onto the dark train platform. Harry was one of the first to exit the train, and was greeted by the cold night air to his face, and sharp, quick zaps of future emotions with people he touched. A lamp flipped on as more students flooded the area, and over the ruckus of students Harry heard a familiar voice:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Hagrid asked. Harry nodded dumbly at the hulking mass of Hagrid, who he hadn't seen in a month.

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. His eight foot figure dwarfed the tiny first years.

"C'mon, follow me. Anymore firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid crowed. They slipped and stumbled their way as they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that despite Hagrid's lamp Harry thought there must be thick trees everywhere. Few children murmured as they went, most just kept to themselves. Neville, the boy who lost his toad, sniffled once or twice.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round the bend here."

A few moments later and everyone saw exactly that.

There was a loud "Oooooh!" as they rounded the bend, and the narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great Black Lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, with its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid ordered, and called the attention to the small fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Neville, and Hermione were followed into their boat by Ron.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouted.

"Right then. FORWARD!" Hagrid hoed and pointed to the castle. The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, and glided across the lake, which was as smooth as glass, betraying the enchantments placed upon its surface. Everyone was silent as they stared up at the great castle. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to take them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" Neville cried blissfully, and held out his hands to be gifted by the giant sir. The toad fell into his hands non-gracefully, but Neville didn't seem to care. He coveted the toad as he returned to Hermione and Harry. They then scrambled up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, and came out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid asked, and Neville flushed pink. He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

Out came a tall, black haired witch with stern features and prim emerald green robes. She screamed 'do not cross' with a simple look in her eye, and the first years bristled under her gaze.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said, and waved his hand at the assorted kids.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall responded.

She pulled the great doors apart father to reveal the entrance hall, so large that the entire Dursley house would fit inside. The old stone walls were lined with torches that gave the room a warm glow, and the ceiling was too high up to see. A grandiose marble staircase faced them, which led to to what Harry assumed were the upper floors.

The first years followed Professor McGonagall down the abate stone path. The buzz of what could easily be over a hundred voices sounded from a door to the right, where the school body must already be, but Professor McGonagall led them into a small desolate chamber off the hall. They all huddled into the room, closely packed together, much closer than they would have liked. Harry felt more of the familiar zaps of future emotions, and he tried to seclude himself behind Hermione and Neville. Someone he'd touched was going to have a sour future with him very soon, and he didn't want that feeling riding in his head. Professor McGonagall turned towards the group of first years and stared at them all intently, commanding their attention.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the professor. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Professor McGonagall finished. The first year body stared at her a little dazed at the information for a few short moments. Her eyes pinned down Neville's cloak, which was clasped under his left ear, and then at the smudge on Ron's nose.

"I shall return when we're ready for you. Please wait quietly." Professor McGonagall said. She left with nare a sound, and the group of first years were left to their own devices.

Harry turned to Neville as soon as he was sure the professor wouldn't be able to hear them and asked, "How exactly do they sort us into our houses?"

"Something to do with a hat." Neville responded just as quietly. Trevor the toad croaked melodiously in his arms, as though confirming what Neville said.

A loud crash followed, and all the students turned to the noise. Harry gasped, as did the people around him. About twenty people had just jumped through the back wall. They were milky white and semi-transparent, and they glided across the room whilst talking to one another, and hardly glanced at the first years. They seemed to be arguing, though of what was hard to discern.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance." A fat little monk said.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?" A second ghost, one that looked like a failed jester, took notice of the grouplet.

No one answered, too dumbstruck at the sight of what could only be ghosts, before them. Harry was in a mix of surprise and horror at the sight of the ghosts, and could only stare as the failed jester tottered to them.

"New students!" Said the Fat Friar behind the jester. "About to be sorted, I suppose."

A few of the students, those familiar with ghosts, nodded to the haunts. The Fat Friar grinned at the group.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! That's my old house." He said jovially.

"Come along now," said a sharp voice, which startled students and ghosts alike. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall, a spectacle for many students no doubt.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry got into line behind a boy with platinum blond hair, with Neville and Hermione behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry hadn't ever seen such a place in his dreams or in movies. The entire hall was filled with floating candles that had no melt marks; they floated over the four long tables just feet above where the students sat. The tables were filled with gold plates and goblets with nothing on them, which was a strange sight indeed to the young boy. At the front of the hall, farthest from the doors, was a long table with a line of people sitting behind it. All of them gazed at the incoming students, some with delight, and others with intrigue. Professor McGonagall shepherded the grouplet into a line that extended to the front of the hall, and turned to face the body of students rather than the professors. Hundreds of faces stared back at them, and the light of the floating candles reflected off of those faces in a way that made them appear to be faint lanterns. The opaque and luminous shimmer of ghosts could be seen widely dispersed throughout the students. The eyes that bored into them unnerved Harry, so he looked up at the ceiling. He had expected to see nothing, as he couldn't in the entrance hall, but instead he found himself looking into a deep silkin sky stippled with little twinkling lights.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." He heard Hermione whisper from behind him to another student. Harry found such a thing hard to believe, but there it was, right before him on the ceiling.

He looked down once the line stopped, and they watched as Professor McGonagall set down a stool with a hat- the one Neville had likely meant- on top. The hat looked old, patched, and frayed, and was definitely something Harry's Aunt Petunia would have never allowed in the house.

They waited with baited breath for someone to do something. Were they supposed to pull something out of it? Maybe they were supposed to use their wands on the hat? Harry wasn't prepared for anything like that.

They waited a few more moments, and then the hat tipped back where a huge rip appeared. Harry gasped quietly as he thought the hat would be torn apart, but no, it started to sing. It said what Professor McGonagall had said, except it put more depth to each of the houses. The Gryffindor House was brave and daring, the Hufflepuff House was loyal and patient, the Ravenclaw House was quick witted and well learnt, and the Slytherin House was real friended and cunning.

Well Harry didn't think he was anything. He wasn't brave or daring, or ready minded and well learnt, or cunning or patient. He liked to think himself loyal, but had never needed a reason to put that to the test, and while he wanted to find real friends, he remembered everything Hagrid had said about Slytherin. Every bad witch and wizard that ever came out of Hogwarts was a Slytherin.

None of the houses fit, and he wondered if he'd be cast out, because he didn't fit. What if he was already a failure in the community? It hadn't even been one day.

The hall burst into applause after the hat sang, and it sank back into its original form of complacent seating. Professor McGonagall came back up to the front, this time with a long scroll in her hands.

"When I call out your name come up to be Sorted," Professor McGonagall said. She looked at the list, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A girl with blonde pigtails broke from the group and bounded up the stairs to the hat. She flounced down into the seat and the hat was sat atop her head for only a moment before it shouted out: "HUFFLEPUFFLE."

The girl went off to the table of Yellow and Black, and the next row of names were called. Bones, Boot, Brocklehurst, Brown, Bulstrode, Crabbe, Finch-Fletchley, Finnigan, and Goyle. When "Granger, Hermione" was called up, she waved to Neville and Harry, bounded up the stairs, and sat with the hat on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted not too long after. Hermione jumped up and off to the table of Red and Gold with a beaming smile, where Percy Weasley was there to greet her.

"Longbottom, Neville!" Professor McGonagall called out. Neville passed Harry a willful smile, and walked up the stairs with a face as red as tomatoes. He sat down and the hat was placed on his head. And continued to sit with the hat on his head for many multiple minutes afterwards. It was clear Neville was aware of the time passing too, because he kept growing redder and redder as time went by.

When the hat finally called out "GRYFFINDOR!", Neville went running off with the hat on his head, and had to bring it back.

Harry, now alone with people he didn't know, counted down until it was his name that was called. "MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Draco!" Professor McGonagall called out.

The crowd of an ever shortening number of students moved, and Harry was hit with a new set of emotions. He had been zapped with numerous different emotions over the course of the evening since he'd gotten off the train, but he had learned to tune those out over the years. Whoever touched him at that moment was a different spectrum, one he couldn't ignore or turn away.

There was an indescribable flood of feelings from whoever brushed him at that moment. They were grand and permeated his head with determined contact, persistent trust, and consistent honesty. In flickers, like a swipe of a flame, would be brief moments of things like disbelief, comfort, home, danger, fear, and joy. The emotions were so extreme Harry whipped around to find who caused those. Who was so colorful a person that-

The student whose name was called walked forward, and with that the flood of emotions in Harry disappeared. It was the platinum blond boy he had stood behind when they walked in. He swaggered up the stairs to the hat with a smug look across his face, and had barely sat down with the hat on his head before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The pointy faced boy continued to swagger his way to the table of Silver and Green, where he sat with his friends, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry continued to stare at the boy until his name was called, baffled by what he had felt.

Only once his name was called did he look away. As he looked away he was aware of a disturbing silence that had fallen over the room. It appeared his name did not go unnoticed by anyone.

"Potter, did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

The whispers surrounded him as he walked up to the podium. He turned slowly to face the crowd of curious faces, and in the next moment, things went black as the hat was placed on his head.

Harry mentally jumped when the hat began to talk to him.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself... Now that's interesting... You can see the future of yourself with others, that'll make your friendships very hard... So where shall I put you?"

_Not Slytherin_ , he told the hat.

"Not Slytherin?" The hat echoed. "Are you sure? You could do great things from there."

Harry was steadfast in this thought, even if Draco Malfoy was in the house and he was likely giving up his only chance to talk to the blond.

"Well, if you're sure, better be: GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted aloud.

The hall uproared with the response from the hat. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw cheered, the Slytherin's clapped politely, and the Gryffindor House stood upon their feet and hollered. Harry could clearly hear the Weasley twins shouting that they got Potter.

Harry leapt from the chair after handing the hat back to Professor McGonagall, and practically ran to the table of Red and Gold, determined to be away from the spotlight as soon as possible. He sat beside Neville and Hermione, was vigorously greeted by Percy Weasley, and clapped on the back with many more hands than he thought were at the table.

The sorting carried on after Harry. There were Thomas, Turpin, Weasley, and Zabini. Two went to Gryffindor, one went to Ravenclaw, and one went to Slytherin. Thus the sorting was done. Professor McGonagall took the hat away, and the man Harry could correctly identify as Albus Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome," Headmaster Albus Dumbledore said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

With those parting, strange words, the old man sat down and tucked his beard into his lap. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, and he turned to Percy, the only one in his vicinity who could possibly know.

"Is he a bit... Mad?" Harry asked him.

"Mad?" Percy parroted. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry stared at where food had appeared, quite magically, onto the gold dishes that lines the entire table. A variety of roasts, chops, and breakfast meats covered the table, along with several different forms of potato and veggies, topped with condiments, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate with all the foods he wanted, and nibbled along all of it. The tables were rather quiet at the moment from everyone eating, and his eyes would drift over to the Slytherin table every so so often, where he swore Draco stared back just as often. Eventually a ghost drifted into his vision, and he looked up at the failed jester once more.

"That does look good." The ghost lamented. Harry looked at his food, and then back at the ghost.

"Can you eat it?" Harry asked. He offered the food to the ghost. The man in a ruff shook his head, and Harry set his plate back down.

"I haven't eaten food in 400 years," The ghost answered. Harry didn't know what to say to that. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself, I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry responded and thrusted his hand out. He then mentally slapped himself, because the ghost probably knew who he was.

Sir Nicholas reached out on reaction and shook Harry's hand. Harry, to his astonishment, didn't feel anything when he touched the ghost, as he was so familiar with his entire life, but did get a dunked in cold sensation from Sir Nicholas. Sir Nicholas' hand went straight through Harry's hand, but Harry got the distinct feeling the ghost was happy that he'd at least tried to shake hands with him.

"I know you, you're Nearly Headless Nick!" Ron said from a few seats down the table. Sir Nicholas went from a decently pleasant smile to a stern expression at Ron's words. He turned to Ron.

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but another boy, Seamus Finnigan, interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Seamus asked. Sir Nick seemed very miffed by the sudden turn of the conversation.

"Like this," Sir Nick said irritably. The ghost raised his hand, grabbed his left ear, and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell to his shoulder as if on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him but had not done it properly. Sir Nick flipped his head back onto his neck once the students had gotten a good stare. He coughed and said, "So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable. He's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table once more and saw what could only be the Bloody Baron, a horrible looking ghost with blank eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He sat next to Draco Malfoy, who did not look happy to be there.

"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked.

"I've never asked." Sir Nick responded kindly.

As the evening waned and the student body had their fill, the food disappeared from the table and was replaced by desserts. Ice cream in every flavor you could think of, pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, strawberries, Jello, and rice pudding, to name a few.

Harry overheard to conversation around him, but had grown too tired to really enthuse such talk. He looked up to the teacher's table to see how likely they were to be let go soon so he could sleep. Hagrid drank from his goblet as if in a drinking match, though no one was playing with him; Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore; A wild looking professor with frizzy hair talked to a squirrely looking professor in a turban. Harry had seen the man in a turban at the Leaky Cauldron, over a month ago, and could swear his name was Professor Quirrell. On the other side of Professor Quirrell was a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin, overall an unpleasant looking teacher to say the least.

It happened quite suddenly. The sallow skinned teacher tapped lightly on Professor Quirrell and said something to him. Almost like clockwork Professor Quirrell looked at his table partner, and pointed in Harry's general direction. As one the two turned to look at him. A white hot, sharp pain seared through Harry's scar in that moment.

"Ouch!" Harry whispered, and clapped his head with his hand the same time he turned away from the table.

"I-is everything alright, Harry?" Neville asked. Harry rubbed at his scar, but what he was sure had been actual pain was gone just as soon as it had happened.

"Yeah. Just some pain when I looked at the teacher's table." Harry answered honestly. Neville looked concerned, but since Harry didn't have lasting effects from whatever had happened, he couldn't do anything.

Dinner wound down to a close shortly after. Harry spent most of that time glancing at the teacher's table, from Professor Quirrell to whoever the other professor was, but neither looked at him again. Professor Dumbledore stood up to end the feast.

"Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few beginning-of-the-year notices to give you; First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well," Dumbledore said, and his twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, because after everything else he'd seen, this didn't surprise him. Still, he made a mental note to find out where the 'third floor corridor on the right hand side' was so he could safely avoid it at all costs. Along with a note to see the forest, so he knew the parameters of the area he could walk during his free time.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing our school song!"

A short time later Percy led the Gryffindor First Years through a series of corridors Harry would need a while to learn. There were stairs and long halls, and they just kept going up, until near the top of a staircase they came upon a great portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" She asked quite suddenly, and Harry was happy Ron had shown him the cards earlier that day.

"Caput Draconis," Percy responded, and Harry _saw_ Hermione file that information away later. The portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole in the wall. Percy helped them through one at a time, and then led them into the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room with many squishy armchairs. While the First Years wanted to oogle the room, Percy knew they were all tired, and directed the girls up their tower -he couldn't go with them because the stairs to the girls dormitory were charmed to turn into a slide if boys tried- before he led the boys to their room. It was at the top of a long staircase, obviously the top of one of the many towers Harry had seen outside, and inside they found what they all were hoping for: Beds. Five beds with thick red curtains surrounding each of them for privacy. Their suitcases had already been brought up, which made getting into their pj's all the easier. The Gryffindor first year boys fell asleep very quickly after.

* * *

Blooper:

The whispers surrounded him as he walked up to the podium. He turned slowly to face the crowd of curious faces, and in the next moment, things went black as the hat was placed on his head.

Harry mentally jumped when the hat began to talk to him.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself... Now that's interesting... You can see the future of yourself with others, that'll make your friendships very hard... So where shall I put you?"

Subtle, Harry remembered the director had said. He needed to be subtle with this next part.

He turned his body so that it faced more towards the Gryffindor table, but his head swiveled to look at the Slytherin one. He made direct eye contact with Draco, who was clearly startled by his skill in being subtle.

" _With him._ " he whispered to the hat, both in mind and in voice.

The hall was bereft of noise from the students, but he could hear a distinct ruffle noise behind him where Professor McGonagall stood as though she was trying to desperately hold in a laugh.

Piece of cake.

"Cut!" The director shouted. "Reset the scene. Harry, good first time. Try not to turn your body and head in two different directions though."

Harry nods once and curt to the director, and resets his pose. A few different cameras change positions, and the scene resets. Harry got up and went back to the crowd. Professor McGonagall calls out his name again.

The whispers surrounded him as he walked up to the podium. He turned slowly to face the crowd of curious faces, and in the next moment, things went black as the hat was placed on his head.

Harry mentally jumped when the hat began to talk to him.

The hat was chuckling at him right off the bat, "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a nice thirst to prove yourself... Now that's interesting... You can see the future of yourself with others, that'll make your friendships very hard... So where shall I put you?"

Don't turn body and head at the same time, Harry remembered the director had said.

Harry looked over at Draco, and then turned his head to him. He made direct eye contact with him. Draco looked up to the stars in exasperation.

" _With him._ " he whispered to the hat, both in mind and in voice.

The hall was pinched with quiet laughter from the students, and he could hear a distinct ruffle noise behind him where Professor McGonagall stood as though she was trying to desperately hold in a laugh, and failing even worse than the first time.

Not as piece of cake.

"Cut!" The director shouted, just as Harry knew he would.


	3. Cloppy Classes

The next morning Harry woke up bright and early alongside with a few other members of his dorm. Neville Longbottom, who was too anxiety ridden to not wake up before six; and Dean Thomas, who was used to getting up early naturally. Seamus Finnigan and Ron Weasley slept in until Harry was done in the shower. Neither of the boys asked for them to wait, so Harry walked off with Neville and Dean in a blatant, sad attempt to find the Grand Hall from the night before.

Along the way they came across Hermione Granger and Parvati Patil, who were also on their way out of the common room. Hermione greeted Harry with a smile he didn't think he deserved yet, and happily showed the three boys where to go. Surprisingly, though if Hermione was as smart Harry thought, not at all surprisingly, Hermione knew every turn and hallway to get back to the hall. It was a long walk, and one that required many grabs to save each other -some of the stairs were missing _steps_ -, which surprised the group because those hadn't been there the night before. As they were nearing the final level of the castle they learned why though: the stairs _moved_.

Harry casually passed around foods to his peers as he not so casually ignored all the stares given his way, and had made to sure brush Dean and Parvati as he made headway in the meal. He found his futures with them were passing at best, and close housemates at worst. He was a little sad to learn he'd never make great friends with Dean, who seemed like a genuinely funny boy, but he thought he could live with that considering he now shared a dorm with Dean for the next seven years.

Eventually, when breakfast was well under headway, Ron and Seamus made an appearance and took all the food they could get before it disappeared. They looked a little winded, and it only took a short comment to find out why it took them so long.

"We got lost," Ron said.

"The stairs change directions." Seamus backed.

"Best get food down then, the food disappears from the entire table, not just the platters," Fred said from farther down the table. Panic struck the pair, and they began to eat quicker.

"Surely they aren't so cruel." Hermione admonished. Neither twin responded, but they heard distinctive snickers. Ron knew what that meant, and slumped into his seat in relief and began to eat normally once more. Seamus took in Ron's form, and followed suit.

While Harry didn't mean to brush Ron off so often, it was a fact that he had to go try to found where his first class was. If the stairs moved that often, and there was no doubt entire other sections of the castle not yet discovered, Harry needed to figure out where things were fast. He and Neville left the group soon after to find where the first class was so they could go back and report before first class started at 9:10.

Along the way towards one of the larger staircases, the two boys tried to slip by a group of Slytherins. By try, it means Harry bumped shoulders rather painfully with one of them, and was brought around quite suddenly to face Draco Malfoy. The two stared at each other for a good long second, and Harry watched as emotions danced across Draco's face. Disbelief, anger, surprise, a glitter in his eye, and immediately it was all put behind a mask. Harry was impressed by that last part.

"I'm sorry-" The two started as one, and then they stopped. They stared, and Harry jostled his weight while he thought of what to say.

"Would you like to be friends? Or... Acquaintances, maybe?" Harry asked. Draco drew himself up like he'd prepared a response already to this, and then he paused.

"Wait, _you're_ asking _me_?" Draco asked. Some of the people from his group finally noticed he'd disappeared, and two bulky looking kids came back their way. Harry wondered if his time was limited with Draco then.

"Yeah," Harry answered. Draco stared at him a little while longer, and then looked over his shoulder at Neville.

"...Sure," Draco said after a few too many seconds. He brought his hand out for Harry to shake, even though he no doubt already knew who he was talking too. Harry wondered if the only reason Draco said yes was _because_ he was Harry Potter. That thought concerned him, but Harry wasn't going to question it just yet. What he felt last night was still very vivid in his mind.

"Harry Potter," Harry said as he took Draco's hand. A second bout of the same emotions from the night before happened, but this time Harry was more prepared for it.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco said, and gave Harry's hand one good shake. Just like Neville and Hermione, Draco had not expected the grin Harry had given him. Still, ever proper, Draco returned a smile, though not as bright.

"So... See you in class?" Harry asked, because he didn't know where to go from there. Harry had never had friends. Neville likely stuck around him because Harry never said go away -not that Harry was ever going to-, and it was possible Hermione didn't consider _him_ a friend yet, and only hung out because they were in the same house. Draco was entirely different; he was in a different house, and Harry had just asked.

Draco nodded twice, easily, and laced a smile along his face.

"Yes. I'll see you in class. Save a seat for me." Draco said. Harry felt relief that Draco was instigating the next meeting already, it meant he didn't have to flounder for an excuse to talk to him. Did friends need excuses to talk to each other?

"Harry." Neville whispered, and Harry was brought back to his main mission.

"Goodbye Harry." Draco said, still with that same laced smile. Harry waved at the Slytherin as he left cooly with his two friends.

"Goodbye Draco." Harry answered to his back. Draco didn't make any motion that he'd heard Harry, but Harry was ok with that.

The green eyed kid turned around and continued with Neville up the rest of the stairs. It was an awkward silence that followed, that Harry didn't want to exist.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked. Neville jumped like he hadn't expected Harry to talk.

"N-no... You seemed eager back there." Neville said quietly. He flushed to his forehead not soon after.

"Oh..." Harry said. "I didn't mean to seem eager. I didn't want to lose the opportunity."

Neville didn't say anything after that, and Harry was left wondering if something was wrong. The air didn't feel clean between them, and Harry didn't want to leave it hanging.

"I won't choose him... Over you I mean. I just felt the future emotions with him and didn't want to lose the opportunity." Harry explained. Neville's head jerked around at his admittance, and Harry nodded, as if that would back up what he said.

"Future emotions?" Neville asked loudly. He didn't blush, as past experiences would have led Harry to believe. He seemed too startled to think to do such a thing.

"Yeah. Don't all wizards have it?" Harry asked. When Neville shook his head in bewilderment Harry felt dread fill his stomach. Oh no, that wasn't normal. He just had to be weird even among the people he was supposed to be the most similar to.

"It's not a bad thing," Neville said as soon as he saw the dread on Harry's face. "It's just not... common."

"So you know what it is?" Harry asked. Neville nodded, paused, shook his head, paused, and then shrugged.

"I do... It's usually one of the signs of a seer," Neville explained. He side eyed Harry. "You don't happen to have any other abilities do you?"

"None that I know of... Well... I swear I heard a snake talk." Harry admitted as the memory came back to mind. Neville tripped in his step, which told Harry that, no, that was not one of a seers' abilities.

"I don't think that counts," Neville said, and he left it at that. "I mean things like... seeing the future, or seeing the past further back than you were alive, seeing the end result of a decision, making a prophecy, etc."

"I've never had anything like that. I touch people and I get a rush of emotions that foretell my relationship with that person." Harry explained.

The staircase they stood on began to move, and the duo sighed as they waited for the case to stop.

"How do you know it's the future?" Neville asked curiously.

"My teachers... I'm only ever around them for a year, so our relationships were short lived... I learned a lot about my teachers." Harry explained. He wouldn't go into much detail, because some of his teachers really hated by the end of the years. Except for Mr. Quinn, who really liked him the entire time he was a pupil.

"...What are we like?" Neville asked. The pair continued upstairs towards where they hoped was the class. Harry hesitated for a few moments as he remembered what the hat said: That'll make your friendships very hard.

"Do you really want to know?" He asked. Neville pondered the question for a moment.

"No, I suppose not," Neville responded.

They found the room not soon after, and after they made a mental note on it they began the long walk back to the Grand Hall. Thankfully, the group they were going back for was already walking their way, so they only had to make half the trip.

They chit chatted their way to the first class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was joint with Hufflepuffs. Rather than learn hexes and curses, the entire period was spent asking Professor Quirrell questions and receiving vague answers. They heard about vampires and zombies, but not about to how defend against them. Except for the garlic smell which infused the air, apparently meant to ward away vampires. Harry had thought that that was going to be a muggle myth. Professor Quirrell's turban, a gift from an African prince, though nobody believed that, also had a strange scent that Harry couldn't place; neither could his peers.

Following DADA was Herbology with Ravenclaws. Professor Sprout had a name and style that screamed "plants", and was spirited enough that Harry questioned why the word spirited meant energetic if the spirits of Hogwarts tended to be apathetic. She gave attention to each student, helped them in the practical tasks of caring for plants, but also challenged them with questions. Neville perked up noticeably in this class, more confident and at ease. He seemed to know what he was doing, and Harry had a feeling that he'd end up asking Neville for help in the future.

After Herbology was lunch for every student. There, Draco approached Harry near the end of lunch to see if they even had classes together that day. It turned out, rather conveniently, that the next class they both had was one and the same: Transfiguration. Draco apparently already knew where the class was, and offered to take the Gryffindors. The group agreed, some less enthusiastically than others, and it was seen, for the first time in many years, that Gryffindors and Slytherins walked in a decently close group. At the head of it were Draco, Harry, and Hermione, in a questionably awkward silence.

"Hi, Draco," Harry said, albeit belatedly, with a wide smile. Draco looked over at him, and smiled ever so slightly back at him.

"Hey, Harry," Draco replied in an amused tone, and looked over at Hermione, who was beside Harry. A look of disdain crossed his features for a brief moment when his eyes landed on her, but it disappeared just as quick.

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who clearly saw Draco's reaction to her if her annoyed expression was anything to go by. Harry resolved to ask one of them about it when they had free time. For now, he struck up a tentative conversation with Draco. He tried to include the rest of his peers, but the two houses didn't want to mingle too much.

Harry and Draco did sit next to one another, much to the rest of the class's surprise. Neither boy cared much for the looks they were given, they were both happy with the situation in their own way. Neville did sit on Harry's other side though, with Hermione next to him, not so surprised with the arrangements. The rest of the students sat on either side of the Slytherin and Gryffindor duo, in correspondence to their houses. Seeing how much the two houses divided themselves asserted just how much they were estranged. It made Harry grateful that his two friends appeared to accept his wish of being friends with Draco.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, the one with the emerald green robes that sorted them. Her personality matched her exterior: stern and clever. Precisely when class was supposed to begin, she told them exactly what she expected from her students.

"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and scientific forms of magic you will learn. It requires your full attention. Should I find anyone mucking around, they will be removed from my class permanently." She said, and her steely gaze ensured that the message sunk in.

Professor McGonagall proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back again. The students stared in wonder and a whir of excitement filled the room, but this was quickly shot down as Professor McGonagall went on to have them take elaborate notes. The energy picked back up again when they were given needles to turn into matches, glad to have something practical to do even if it wasn't on the same scale as tables and animals. Harry found the task difficult, and succeeded in only making his needle a bit more rounded. Only Hermione was able to transfigure a needle by the end of class, which earned her a smile from Professor McGonagall. Draco seemed genuinely impressed by that, but never said anything. Harry got the distinct feeling that it wasn't because the task was difficult, but he didn't know what else it could be.

The odd duo headed their separate ways afterwards as they went to different classes, and each house was visibly relieved to be free of one another. The last class of the day for the Gryffindor first years was Charms, shared with Ravenclaws. Professor Flitwick was a tiny wizard, and he put Professor Sprout to shame with his enthusiasm with the class. Harry worried that he'd fall off the stack of books he used to see over his desk with how much energy he displayed, and was proven correct as Professor Flitwick did indeed fall off the stack of books when he called out Harry's name while taking roll.

Dinner that night was much more subdued than the night before, and the extravagant dishes in the welcoming feast did not reappear. The first years conversed about their first day of classes, and Hermione made herself well known as a know-it-all.

Harry shot the occasional glance at the table of Silver and Green, and made eye contact with Draco a few times throughout dinner. Each time he did, he would smile, and received a smile back.

The next day was a bit of a repeat, with differently scheduled classes. It was Transfiguration, once again with Slytherins, as the first class, and Charms as second. After lunch was where the similarity stopped, because the Gryffindors went to History of Magic afterwards.

History of Magic was the most dull experience of Harry's life. Professor Binns, a ghost, would just droll on and on about some boring moment in history while the students took notes. Professor Binns was precisely why Harry thought the word spirited was defined incorrectly.

The rest of the week held a similar pattern. They had the same classes, they just sometimes shared the classes with different houses. In this time, Harry gathered that he was not behind his classmates - except perhaps Hermione, but everyone was behind Hermione, so that was okay. His worry about not fitting in or being accepted was not realized, for which he was glad.

The only time this pattern broke was Friday. They had a double period of Potions in the morning, and the afternoon free. It was the first time that week they had a free afternoon.

Ron grumbled when he looked at their timetable, "We have Slytherin with double potions."

The rest of the group looked up at Ron's grumble; some grimaced with him, like Seamus and Lavender, while others shrugged, like Parvati and Dean. Neville didn't seem too worried over such a thing, and Hermione just smiled softly to herself. The Slytherin's weren't as bad as she'd initially thought; Blaise Zabini had complimented her intelligence in Herbology on Wednesday, and that was more than she could say about a lot of her old classmates in school. Harry perked up at the idea of sharing a double class with all his new friends, and then perked up even more when he realized this was the first potions class they had.

Almost like clockwork Draco walked over to them, alone mind you. He didn't say anything as a greeting, but pushed Harry a bit so he could sit down with them. He didn't take any food from the table, which made them think he had already eaten. Still, it was a welcomed occurrence.

"Harry," Draco said slowly. He turned and looked at Neville as well. "And Neville. I should let you know something about Professor Snape."

Harry, thankfully, knew who that teacher was because some of his classmates had already had the experience to meet him. Most of them came out alive, but the few that didn't did not like Professor Snape or Slytherin's thereafter.

"He doesn't like the two of you, and if I wasn't your guys' friend I wouldn't tell you this at all," Draco paused to look around at the table. "He probably won't like you either Hermione, because you are a bit of a know-it-all."

Hermione's face pinched, but she nodded to what Draco said. She didn't know how to fix it, she loved school and loved to answer questions, doing anything else would be less than herself.

"Why does he hate Neville and me?" Harry asked. Draco shrugged quite exaggeratedly at that.

"I never learned. I never wanted to until now, but it's not like it's easy to talk to him during school." Draco responded.

"Why do _you_ know he hates them?" Hermione asked. Draco's ears tinted pink, and he picked up a muffin just to do something with his hands.

"He's a family friend," Draco answered nonchalantly. The Gryffindor's felt like there was more to that, but it was clear to them that this made Draco uncomfortable to say.

"Alright then. Thank you, Draco." Harry replied. He and Neville shrugged their own shoulders slightly. Draco nodded to Harry, and then seemed to perk up. He sat up straighter and began to eat his muffin more.

From hail high above the owls came swooping in to deliver the mail. Hedwig dropped a note into Harry's lap, which was the first piece of mail Harry had received that year. It made him jump, and it made Neville spill his drink because Harry knocked his elbow. Harry stared at the letter in his lap for a few moments, because _who would send him a letter?_ On the front in bold characters and splotched ink was his name, and Harry could only imagine one person writing that messily that knew him.

" _Dear Harry,_ " it read, " _I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid._ "

"Hagrid?" Draco asked. "Isn't that the giant that took us to Hogwarts that first night?"

"Yes. He was the one who took me to get my stuff back in August." Harry explained. Draco's face twisted into a weird expression Harry had learned was distaste.

"Is he your friend?" Draco asked. Harry tottered his head on his shoulders for a few seconds, and finally decided to shrug. When he'd shook hands with Hagrid the night they met, he discovered that Hagrid was a trustworthy relationship, but there was a _lot_ of hesitation and distrust as well. He wasn't sure why there was trust and distrust with the friendly giant, but he didn't trust any of it yet.

"Not really... But he's friendly." Harry answered. He glanced at Neville, who was the only one who knew about his power still, and Neville got an "oh" look for a split second. He nodded to himself like Harry had answered an old riddle, which left Hermione and Draco confused. Harry felt guilt that they didn't know.

"Are you going to go?" Draco asked distastefully.

"Maybe. I wouldn't go alone." Harry responded. Draco pursed his lips at that, and he narrowed his eyes at Harry. It felt like a ploy to get him to visit the giant, but Harry seemed too genuine for that to be the case.

"Neville and I could go," Hermione said. Harry looked at the muggleborn with a beaming smile, which she returned with half as much teeth.

"You don't have to," Harry replied rather quickly. Hermione waved her hand in the air as if to bat that reply away from herself.

"Nonsense, we're friends." She answered easily. She smiled again, more to herself this time, because she could say that and it would be true. In reaction to her smile both Neville and Harry smiled, because neither of them had really had friends before either.

Draco watched the three Gryffindors grin like idiots to each other, and he felt... Wanton. He wanted to be a part of that. It was a strange feeling to feel, because there was nothing to gain from this.

"I'll go," Draco said quietly. The three Gryffindors looked at him when he spoke, all of their smiles gone. They weren't gone for long though, and soon he was in on the idiotic smiling phase with them. It felt good to Draco to do that, but he wasn't sure why. He would do it more often though.

Harry happily scribbled a note to Hagrid that said he would be be there, and that he would be bringing some friends along. He handed the note back to Hedwig, and she flew off.

The trio made into a quartet traveled down to the dungeons for a four hour long period of potions. Draco knew the area like the back of his hand already, so they took shortcuts to get there faster. They were ten minutes early, which was alright for each of them. They didn't want to learn what happened if they were late.

Ten minutes early became fifteen minutes late for the teacher himself, and the class became rowdy. The door burst open, which let in a cold breeze as Professor Snape stepped into the classroom. He swept past the students quickly until he reached his desk, at which point he stopped and turned to face his class with a callous gaze. He began to take roll, and like Professor Flitwick he paused when he got to Harry's name. Unlike Professor Flitwick though, he didn't fall off of a pile of books.

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter," Professor Snape said as he set sights on the offending person. "Our new _celebrity_."

A few of the Slytherins sniggered behind their hands. Draco wasn't one of them, though Professor Snape didn't seem to take notice. He finished taking roll without pausing on any other student.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and specific art of potion-making," Professor Snape began. He spoke quiet enough that the back of the class barely heard him, but they all caught every word. Similar to Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had your attention with every word without having to try. "As there is less wand-work in here, many of you will not see the magic within this craft. I don't believe you will truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even place a stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads that I usually have to teach."

Chilly silence reigned in the chilly room, which only served to make the room feel even more so. Harry took a subtle glimpse at his friends, as he did not want Professor Snape to think he wasn't paying attention. Draco looked slightly amused, Neville looked terrified, and Hermione looked offended that anyone would call her a dunderhead.

Professor Snape's black eyes landed on him, "Potter!" he barked. He made his way along the side of the room to the back, with his steady gaze, "What would I get if I added a powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry stared at the professor who had so sharply asked him to answer a question that seemed impossible to answer. Was that supposed to be obvious? Was it common knowledge? Was it something in the book he had yet to read?

Silence bit at the air like poison. Harry was deathly aware of Hermione waving her hand in the air, that Draco was uncomfortable, that Neville was even more terrified, and that the rest of the room was still. It was just him, and the professor who glared at him.

"Asphodel and wormwood make the Draught of Living Death." Draco blurted out after the silence had gone on for a minute. Professor Snape froze in breath, and Harry thought he would die on the spot if looks could kill. Hermione's arm dropped.

The air was so silent that you could hear a quill drop. Harry didn't dare to look away from Professor Snape in that moment, though he wished he could.

"Correct Mr. Malfoy," Professor Snape said. He stood back, and the entire room inhaled as one. "One point from Slytherin for speaking out of turn."

Draco flinched at those words, and he looked down at the table. The Slytherins on his side of the room grumbled at him, but it was too quiet for Harry to hear.

Professor Snape stalked his way back to the front of the room, and turned to the silent students dramatically.

"Well, write that down." Professor Snape ordered. The entire class moved hastily to follow his orders, and the sound of quills and parchment being removed from bags was the only sound for a few minutes.

The rest of class was exceptionally tense while they made boil cure potions. It seemed like Professor Snape was looking for anything to say to deduct points from Gryffindor, but never successfully found one. Harry was sure if Draco hadn't purposely worked with him, Professor Snape would have been hounding him as much as possible.

"You didn't have to do that." Harry whispered to Draco in the quiet room. Draco handed him some Snake Fangs with orders to crush them. He didn't respond to Harry for a bit, dutifully focused on his own task. Harry decided not to push it, and stored the information away for a later conversation.

"I wanted to. He was hardly fair to attack you when Ron was whispering to Dean behind us." Draco answered after so long Harry had forgotten what he'd even said.

"It cost your house points," Harry said. Draco looked over at Professor Snape, who was at his table and staring at the first years like a hawk. He seemed very hesitant to speak.

"I can get them back, and double them, easily." Draco said. He sat up proper then, and raised his head up in an aristocratic manner. Harry stared at the eleven-year-old and wondered if that was Draco, or if he was imitating someone.

"Thank you." Harry finished. Draco paused mid movement while turning the fire off. He continued the rest of the move and turned off the fire, and then he waved to Harry to put the porcupine quills into the concoction. Harry did it without a question. Draco hadn't led him astray thus far.

"You're welcome," Draco answered, solemn but he sounded pleased.

A few minutes later the potion turned green and Draco put the crushed snake fangs in. There was giggling behind them in that moment, and they turned as a unit to see Seamus and Lavender having fun sprinkling the crushed snake fangs instead of dumping them in as Harry and Draco did.

Two hours later the double class ended. A few students got their potions right: Hermione and Neville, Draco and Harry, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise, and Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass; while some didn't get them all the way right: Ron and Dean, Seamus and Lavender, Crabbe and Goyle, Parvati and Millicent Bulstrode. Thankfully no one made their potions explode, though there had been two close calls; Crabbe and Goyle put in raw horned slugs, and Seamus and Lavender put the crushed snake fang in _too_ slowly.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors went to lunch as a group, but split and went to their appropriate tables. At the end of lunch though, before the trio of Gryffindor's left, Draco joined them once more to go to Hagrid's hut.

* * *

Blooper 1:

Along the way towards one of the larger staircases, the two boys tried to slip by a group of Slytherins. By try, it means Harry bumped shoulders rather painfully with one of them, and was suddenly face to face with stone. He heard some thumps behind him as he propped himself up. Once he was in a sitting position, he rubbed his nose which had scrunched against a step.

He looked down the steps to see Draco being helped up by one of the Slytherins, who was giggling too hard to really do anything. Neville, who was also lost in a fit of giggles, held out a hand for him to take. Harry took the offered hand and stood up. The giggles within him began to rise up as well.

They reset the scene after the kids were done with their giggle fits, and Draco and Harry stopped having red marks where they hit the stairs.

Along the way towards one of the larger staircases the two boys tried to slip by a group of Slytherins. By try, it means Harry and Draco actively avoided one another. The two walked past one another and then turned around to continue the scene like they were supposed to.

The director sighed.

Blooper 2:

Ten minutes early became fifteen minutes late for the teacher himself, and the class became rowdy. The door burst open, which let in a cold breeze as Professor Snape stepped into the classroom. He swept past the students quickly until he reached his desk, at which point he stepped on his cloak and tripped.

The class sat in silence, the students' eyes wide. "Ah, yes. Harry Potter," Professor Snape said from under his cloak. He flipped it back and set his sights on the offending person, and pushed himself off of the floor. "Our new celebrity."

He got off the floor and continued his way to the front of the room. The classroom was full of muffled laughter.

"You are here to learn the-"

"Cut!" The director cried, and slapped his version of the script on his knee as he smothered his howls of laughter with his hand. "From the top!"

Professor Snape swooped his way back to the door and closed it behind him.

On the cue, the door burst open, which let in a cold breeze as Professor Snape stepped into the classroom. He swept past the students quickly until he reached his desk, at which point he stopped and turned to face his class with a callous gaze. He began to take roll, and like Professor Flitwick he paused when he got to Harry's name. Unlike Professor Flitwick, he didn't fall off a pile of books.

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter," Professor Snape set his sights on the offending person. "Our new celebrity."

A few of the Slytherins sniggered behind their hands. Draco wasn't one of them, though Professor Snape didn't seem to take notice. He successfully finished taking roll without pausing on any other student.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and specific art of potion making," Professor Snape began. He spoke quiet enough that the back of the class barely heard him, but they all caught every word. Similar to Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had your attention with every word without having to try. "As there is less wand-work in here, many of you will not see the magic within this craft. I don't believe you will truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even place a stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads that I usually have to teach."

Chilly silence reigned in the chilly room, which only served to make the room feel even more so. Harry took a subtle glimpse at his friends, as he did not want Professor Snape to think he wasn't paying attention. Draco looked slightly amused, Neville looked terrified, and Hermione looked offended that anyone would call her a dunderhead.

Professor Snape's black eyes landed on him, "Potter!" he barked. He made his way along the side of the room to the back, with his steady gaze, "What would I get if I added a powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry stared at the professor who had so sharply asked him to answer a question that seemed impossible to answer. Was that supposed to be obvious? Was it common knowledge? Was it something in the book he had yet to read?

Silence bit at the air like poison. Harry was deathly aware of Hermione waving her hand in the air, that Draco was uncomfortable, that Neville was even more terrified, and that the rest of the room was still. It was just him, and the professor who glared at him.

"Asphodel and wormwood make the Draught of Living Death." Draco blurted out after the silence had gone on for a minute. Snape froze in breath, and Harry thought he would die on the spot if looks could kill. Hermione's arm dropped.

The air was so silent that you could hear a quill drop. Harry didn't dare to look away from Professor Snape in that moment, though he wished he could.

"Correct Mr. Malfoy," Professor Snape said. He stood back, and the entire room inhaled as one. "One point from Slytherin for speaking out of turn."

Draco flinched at those words, and he looked down at the table. The Slytherins on his side of the room grumbled at him, but it was too quiet for Harry to hear.

Professor Snape stalked his way back to the front of the room, and turned to the silent students dramatically.

"Well, write that down." Snape ordered. The entire class moved hastily to follow his orders, and the sound of quills and parchment being removed from bags was the only sound for a few minutes.

The rest of class was exceptionally tense while they made boil cure potions. It seemed like Professor Snape was looking for anything to say to deduct points from Gryffindor, but never successfully found one. Harry was sure if Draco hadn't purposely worked with him Professor Snape would have been hounding him as much as possible.

"You didn't have to do that." Harry whispered to Draco in the quiet room. Draco handed him some Snake Fangs with orders to crush them. He didn't respond to Harry for a bit, dutifully focused on his own task. Harry decided not to push it, and stored the information away for a later conversation.

"I don't remember my line." Draco whined after the silence had gone on for more than a couple of minutes, and ducked his head. The class groaned, none of them wanted to be subjected to Professor Snape's spiel again. He took way too much joy in that.


End file.
